


It's All About the Quantum

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Drama, Epistolary, First Time, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-27
Updated: 2004-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a big multiverse out there. Or, an exercise on the unaddressed implications of the quantum mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All About the Quantum

**Author's Note:**

> References the episodes "There But For The Grace of God", "Point of View" and "Window of Opportunity". Many thanks to Jade for the beta.

“So, there’s no threat,” Hammond said.

“No, none whatsoever,” Daniel said. “It was an honest accident.”

General Hammond sat back in his chair in a show of digesting what he’d just been told. Mostly, he was taking opportunity of the pause to survey the team before him.

The six days had taken its toll on them. Jack was slouching in his chair, drumming his fingers restlessly against the table. The only reason Daniel seemed able to sit upright was sheer force of will, the lack of sleep having caught up with him. Carter had the measured expression of someone who’d just missed Christmas, but was determined not to look disappointed. As some sort of comfort, Teal’c looked faintly unperturbed about the whole thing.

“How about the planet? And the temple?” Hammond asked.

“Oh, I think they’ll be pretty sensitive about anyone rummaging around the place for a while,” Daniel said. Beside him, Jack rolled his eyes.

Hammond interlaced his fingers. “But this technology of theirs…”

“Well, sir,” Carter began, “We didn’t use the quantum mirror even when we had it, so their technology isn’t really of any use to us.”

And the room was silent again, with its various occupants apparently feeling that they’d said all that needed to be said. Hammond kept his face expressionless, even as his gaze lingered on Jack’s fatigued eyes. “All right. Reports on my desk by Thursday. Dismissed.”

* * *

Daniel stared at his computer screen blankly for a moment. Oh, he could write miles and miles of analytical speculation when it came to anything that he’d discovered off-world, but when it came to reports…

He took a sip from his mug, tilted his head to the right to nurse a crick, and then settled down to type.

** _P45-7734._ **

** _The Stargate had been placed on a dais in an underground temple, which was roughly the size and shape of a small church. There was a large domed ceiling, marked with a detailed but faded mural in shades of brown and orange. There was no visible light source, and we had to use fluorescent lamps, thus making exploration slow and difficult._ **

Daniel had run into a pillar at least twice during the proceedings. Jack had been kind enough to stop teasing him about it in the first half-hour. And that in itself already made that particular mission different for under normal circumstances, Jack would’ve been bored out of his skull.

** _Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c made the first round to secure to temple as Major Carter and I spent time observing the main room._ **

Sam had been excited about something in the floor, while he’d been excited about the murals. He’d pulled a muscle in his neck trying to make out as much as he could.

** _There were no hints of any life-forms in temple, and we concluded that it had been abandoned for quite some time._ **

Jack had been surprisingly cheerful about that. It was supposed to be the last outing before four days of a well-earned break, and Jack had been more than happy to have a slow mission before throwing himself into the slothdom of downtime.

** _After securing the area, Teal’c and I then made a round to find evidence of technology while Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter focused on a small console in the main Stargate room._ **

** _There were eight smaller rooms interconnecting with the temple’s Stargate room. All the walls and ceilings were decorated with various murals. There was only writing in one of the smaller eight rooms, adorning one wall. We recorded as much as we could of the writing using a camcorder._ **

Daniel made a mental note about the writings. _A variation of classic Greek, not unlike what we’d seen on some of the Goa’uld-inhabited worlds. _But that would go into a different report, which he would delve into later. There were other, more important, things to focus on.

** _About an hour after we’d started, Major Carter came running into the room we were in to inform us that Colonel O’Neill had collapsed. We rushed back to the temple’s main room, where Colonel O’Neill was lying prone on the floor next to the console. We checked his vitals, and there was no sign of any outward physical injury. We immediately dialed the SGC on the Stargate to bring Colonel O’Neill back to the infirmary._ **

Daniel blinked twice, quickly; trying to block out the image of Jack sprawled out on the floor, and the way the beams of their torches had cast an almost ghostlike glow on the man.

Inhaling slowly, Daniel carefully reread what he’d just typed. Right, that was good. There was no need to mention the actual physical state in which they’d found Jack, and how it had taken more than a few false starts to find a weak pulse.

* * *

Not many people knew that Teal’c had his own laptop, which he’d proudly purchased using his own Earth-based income. He’d even had a phoneline installed in his room under the mountain, although he wasn’t using that at the moment. He was well into the report due.

** _The temple was buried completely underground, and the Stargate had been placed on a dais in the center of its main hall. There were no visible signs of advanced technology, and there were no markings usually associated with the Goa’uld or other races we’d encountered before. The layout of the temple, especially with its total lack of light, was unfamiliar to myself._ **

** _Colonel O’Neill and I made a preliminary sweep of the area while Major Carter and Dr Jackson studied the main hall. We were unable to find any source of food or water, or any means of entrance or exit._ **

It wasn’t that they were still the sort to pull out all the stops whenever encountering anything strange, but it was the first time they’d entered somewhere completely underground, unlit, and lacking any means of survival for its occupants (if there had been any). It had been more than a little claustrophobic, although Teal’c hadn’t felt the need to mention it.

** _Most of the rooms were empty, except for two. One had a small well-like structure of an unknown purpose, while another room had a small empty box-shaped rock structure on the floor and unfamiliar writing on the wall. We fetched Dr. Jackson to observe and study the writings. Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter remained in the main hall to study what Major Carter had observed as a console similar in proportions to the DHD._ **

He had mentioned to O’Neill his discomfort with the shadows, which seemed to be more alive that they appeared, but they hadn’t found any evidence of actual life forms, so that had been that. Teal’c had decide to derive comfort from how excited the others had been.

** _Dr. Jackson and I had spent around forty minutes recording the writings on the wall, when Major Carter rushed into the room to inform us that Colonel O’Neill had collapsed. We returned to the main hall and found that Colonel O’Neill had collapsed next to the console. He appeared to be in a state of shock, and was unresponsive to our ministrations. Major Carter re-checked his vitals, and there was no outward physical indication to what would have caused it. We immediately returned to the SGC to bring Colonel O’Neill to the infirmary._ **

It had apparently been a day for the disturbing. First with the temple of shadows while made it feel for all the world like they’d been buried alive, and then the state they’d found O’Neill in. What was the term Major Carter had described it as? Catalepsy?

In retrospect, there really hadn’t been much cause for concern. They had battled, and overcome, far worse things. Teal’c suspected that their own personal worry had been based on the strangely empty look in O’Neill’s eyes. Not asleep, not unconscious, just... absent.

For a moment Teal’c recalled a Tauri saying of fear and of the unknown, and thought it quite suitable in reference to that particular moment.

* * *

While her comrades-in-arms were struggling their way through their individual reports, Major Samantha Carter’s fingers danced swiftly over her keyboard with the assurance that she knew exactly what to say.

** _P45-7734._ **

** _The Stargate was located on top of a small dais about 10 feet in diameter in the center of a large room, which was rough square structure of about thirty feet by thirty feet. The preliminary MALP readings had indicated the building to be some sort of temple, and buried about fifty feet beneath the surface of the planet. As expected, there was no light source or life forms, and we concluded that the place had been abandoned for quite some time. Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c decided to make a safety sweep of the structure as Dr. Jackson and I surveyed the main room._ **

** _There were no outward signs of advanced technology, but there were fine indentations in the floor of the room as might be associated with electricity, and I set to inspect it while Dr. Jackson focused on the murals of the ceiling. There was also a three-foot tall console set in the floor of the hall, and it resembled that of the DHD although it was possible that its design was more ornamental than mechanical._ **

She took a moment to rub her tired eyes, then started typing faster.

** _Colonel O’Neill and Teal’c returned, and we’d decided that the building safe for exploration. Colonel O’Neill and I remained in the hall to continue observation of the console, while Dr. Jackson and Teal’c went to another area of the temple._ **

** _There were no visible markings on the outside of the console, but if it were a machine (as speculated), it was of the more simplified designs associated with advanced technology, such as the DHD and other Goa’uld devices. All initial radiation readings indicated that there was no source of power in the immediate vicinity. We speculated that whatever power had been used to maintain the temple had been removed as its users abandoned the place._ **

** _Almost an hour after I initially set to study the console, I had to return to the MALP to obtain batteries for our electronic equipment. Colonel O’Neill remained behind with the console. When I returned, Colonel O’Neill was lying fallen on the floor next to the console.  A quick check of his vitals indicated that he was alive, but unresponsive._ **

She hadn’t heard a thing. Not a damn thing. Much later, the Colonel told her that it’d happened so quickly, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t made a sound, but still, they hadn’t been fifteen feet apart – darkness notwithstanding – and she hadn’t _noticed_.

Her fingers slipped slightly as she continued typing.

** _Colonel O’Neill’s eyes were wide open, his pulse weak, his breathing erratic, and the muscles of his wrists and neck cold and stiff; all signs of shock. He was holding a small piece of what appeared to be glass in his right hand._ **

She hadn’t been dumb enough to touch it with her bare hands, of course. She’d poked at it with a pen but the colonel was holding it fast. Whatever it was, she wasn’t able to remove it without hurting the colonel, so she let it be for the moment.

** _I immediately fetched Teal’c and Dr. Jackson, and we returned to the SGC to report the Colonel to the infirmary._ **

* * *

Jack stared at the empty word document as though he could will the words to appear. Ah, reports… the bane of his existence at the SGC. Even in the comfort of his home, now accessorised with an encrypted SGC-supplied computer, he could not escape the damn things.

It wasn’t even as if military reports gave much leeway for artistic license, though such things were occasionally necessary. For all the weird stuff he’d had to type out over the years, sometimes there were still things that were better left… elsewhere.

Jack cracked his knuckles.

** _P45-7734._ **

** _The Stargate had been placed in the middle a temple’s main hall. The temple itself was buried almost fifty feet underneath the surface of the planet, but the building’s walls and pillars had been reinforced with what appeared to be concrete, thus making it physically secure. There were no sources of light, and we had to rely on fluorescent lamp lighting during exploration._ **

Sure, they had been a little spooked at first by how dark the place had been, but the place had felt so much like an old abandoned house – quiet and lonely, rather than actually menacing. Well, Teal’c had been a little tense but Jack had thought it good that at least one of them was on high alert, because there was no end to the disaster if _all _of them had been relaxed at the same time. Especially not with the Siamese twins practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.

** _I made a preliminary sweep with Teal’c to ensure the safety of the building. There were no signs of any life forms, technology or even means of entrance and/or exit, which lead to speculation that the Stargate itself was the only way in or out of the building. Teal’c and I had found a room with alien writing on a wall, and I assigned Teal’c to help Dr. Jackson record as much as possibke. I returned to accompany Major Carter who was doing detail on an object we’d designated as ‘the console’ in the main hall._ **

Now the tricky bit.

** _At about 1400 hours, Major Carter returned to the MALP to obtain supplies for her survey equipment. As she was doing so, a panel in the console slid open, dropping a small piece of glass onto the floor. I picked it up and_ **

Jack stared at the screen.

** _fell unconscious._ **

He sighed, and hit the BACKSPACE button.

** _picked it up and_ **

And what? What could he say?

** _and found myself in another_ **

Man, this report thing kept getting tougher and tougher.

** _and found myself in my office of the SGC, but in an alternate universe._ **

Jack snarled at the computer screen, finger jabbing furiously on the BACKSPACE button.

** _and awoke in what appeared to be my office in the SGC. But after a thorough investigation, I found that I was in an alternate universe._ **

He made another irritated sound as he took another long drain of the can. After confirming that it was empty, he crunched it up in one hand and threw it at the dustbin with the absolute certainty that it would miss.

After a while, Jack sighed, and hit the BACKSPACE button for one last round, before typing again.

** _and fell unconscious. I awoke in the SGC infirmary six days later._ **

Yeah, short and sweet. That ought to do it.

* * *

The silence was getting on his nerves. Usually, Daniel’s thought processes worked best in the quiet, but not this time. The word document cursor blinked slowly, taunting him.

Images swam behind his caffeine-drugged eyelids as he chronologically went through the events of the past few days. Jack, lying unconscious in the infirmary. Janet had done tests, god, so many tests, and had found absolutely nothing wrong with him. Other than that he was completely comatose.

He’d practically yelled at her. _“What do you mean, nothing’s wrong with him? Look at him!”_

Janet had been more patient with him that he’d deserved. She’d explained slowly and calmly, _“Physically, there’s nothing wrong with him. His brain patterns aren’t even like those we usually find in people in a coma. It’s almost as though he’s just having a really deep sleep.”_

When they’d first brought Jack back to the SGC, he’d been stiff enough to prop up against a wall. But after a few minutes his muscles relaxed, his eyes finally easing shut, for what little comfort the action gave them.

Daniel shook his head, and decided to type in a little more into the report.

** _After Dr Fraiser wasn’t able to find anything physically wrong with Colonel O’Neill, Teal’c and I returned to P45-7743, while Major Carter worked on the small piece of glass we’d found in Colonel O’Neill’s hand._ **

He’d had to argue with Hammond for that one. Of course, the general had been concerned that whatever had affected Jack would affect them, too, but Daniel had been persuasive. Even Teal’c had helped, standing in that quietly persuasive way he tended to do when the occasion called for it. Hammond caved, eventually, and let them return to the temple with SG-4.

They’d brought more lamps the second time round. Daniel hadn’t wanted to miss _anything_.

He’d gone to visit Jack in the infirmary before leaving, though. Jack, looking all the world as though he were sleeping peacefully, only _not_.

* * *

** _I assisted Dr. Jackson in recording the entire wall of writings._ **

Teal’c had been mildly annoyed with SG-4, who’d been assigned to accompany them, and it was likely they’d noticed. All the members of SG-1 seemed to have that ability… If they were annoyed, everyone around them _knew_. Either they weren’t fast enough, or focused enough, or they were simply in his and Daniel Jackson’s way.

Daniel Jackson had been wired, talking more or less continuously as he bounced speculations off Teal’c’s willing ears. _“These writings, look how they’re grouped, as though in self-contained collections. And this center here, I think this may be the primer. It’s a variation of classical Greek, so it won’t take me that long to translate…”_

There had been a worried note in his tone, though. _“Is something wrong, Daniel Jackson?”_

He’d turned and barked at one of the members of SG-4 to raise the lighting, before saying, _“Well, the writing itself is not consistent in design or age with the murals on the other walls and ceiling. You can’t really see it, but it’s almost as though…” _The shadows had danced across Daniel Jackson’s face, only enhancing the unearthly determination etched there.

** _We came to the conclusion that whoever was responsible for the writings on the wall was not the same person(s) who had built the temple. After recording as much as possible, we returned to the SGC._ **

* * *

There was another computer left on in the lab, set across from the personal terminal Sam was sitting at. She turned to glance at it, taking in the image of a complex multi-colored graph.

** _While Dr. Jackson and Teal’c returned to the planet to fully record the writings there, the lab staff and I started to analyze the glass fragment we’d obtained from Colonel O’Neill._ **

** _At around 1800 hours, the fragment of glass started steadily increasing in temperature.  It leveled off at 80 Fahrenheit at approximately 1840 hours. We were unable to determine the source of its power, but it was, at the time, posing no threat to us, or the command center, so we did not try to move it._ **

* * *

Daniel turned away from the report to make his own notes in a small book. Better to do it while the thoughts were still fresh in mind.

** _The writings were what could be termed as ‘mission reports’. The center primer had details about a team, consisting of five members, who went on missions through Mirae’s Doorway. At the time, we thought that Mirae’s Doorway was referring to the Stargate. The small collections of writings surrounding the primer were details of individual missions made by the team._ **

** _The center primer reads thus: “We walk between the worlds, searching for knowledge beyond our own.”_ **

It had been a good theory, as far as theories went. And it made perfect sense. A team that went on missions between the worlds looking for knowledge? Sure sounded like what SG-1 did, although the knowledge part was mostly a bonus rather than an actual mission prerogative.

Putting the book aside, Daniel returned to the report.

** _After recording the entire wall of writings, Teal’c and I returned to the SGC. Once there, we were alerted by Major Carter of the strange nature of the fragment of glass we’d found on Colonel O’Neill. After more investigation, we found that the fragment was in actuality a piece of the_ **

The sharp ringing of his phone made him pause mid-type. Daniel glanced at the offending item, then reached out and grabbed the receiver to bark, “Jackson.”

“Hey, Daniel.”

Daniel sat up straighter, the familiar voice instigating more than just surprise. “Jack?”

“You finished writing up your report yet?”

“No,” Daniel said slowly.

“Are you including any, uh… any details she may have given you…?”

“You’re not?”

“Would take too long,” Jack said, sounding deceptively cheerful. “Once we hand ‘em in, downtime begins, and you know about me and downtime.”

“Ah.”

“Yup.”

“So, you just fell asleep and woke up six days later?” Daniel’s tone was more clipped than he meant it to be.

“It’s the truth.”

“Fine.” Daniel glared the receiver. “Fine. See you in four days.” He hung up in the middle of Jack’s goodbye.

** _a piece of the quantum mirror we’d obtained from …_ **

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. The quantum mirror had always made him uneasy. The thought that there was every possible version of every possible permutation of every possible universe… It was too much of a concept to wrap one’s mind around – even a mind as open as Daniel’s. They’d already had more than enough trouble with the mirror, and they’d only come into contact with _two _alternates.

As if by their own volition, Daniel’s eyes drifted to the phone. Jack hadn’t told him, or anyone else, of what he’d seen. Though officially he hadn’t actually _seen _anything, if their earlier debriefing contained the absolute truth of it. It wasn’t even as if anyone would dare ask. There had been something in Jack’s eyes that dismissed all questions.

But Daniel knew at least a bit more than he was supposed to, which was probably why—

Daniel reached over and grabbed the phone, hitting a speed-dial number with his elbow. It rang four times before the machine picked up. “You have reached O’Neill’s…”

* * *

Jack permitted himself a smirk as the answering machine stopped halfway through the message. Ah, typical Daniel. The guy had a half-second slower reflex, but that’s what happened when you were an _intellectual_.

As far as Jack was concerned, his report was finished. There was nothing else that anyone needed to know, because there was no technological gain from returning the temple. It would be relegated to the back of the ‘Gate mission log, far far away from anyone’s immediate and not-so-immediate concerns. A bust mission.

Jack wrapped his arms around himself and took several deep breaths. Six days, they’d told him. He’d been out for only six days. Christ, it felt like much longer.

He knew easily what Carter would put in her report.

The glass fragment he’d touched had been part of the quantum mirror, and the power surge had caused him to black out. Because, as far as they knew, one had to physically ‘pass’ through the mirror to enter an alternate universe. The whole body and all that. And everyone knew that Jack had been lying unconscious in the SGC’s infirmary for six days. Yup, completely static and definitely not going anywhere.

Right.

* * *

Dr. Janet Frasier flipped through a folder – identical among many – before re-reading what she’d written on a small notepad a couple of days earlier.

** _O’Neill – unconscious_ **  
** _– brain patterns – not coma_ **  
** _– similar to dream patterns – not quite_ **  
** _– almost… consciousness/mind – elsewhere ?_ **

She glanced at another folder briefly, one that had Sam’s initial notes as she had been studying the glass fragment.

** _– glass – piece of quantum mirror_ **  
** _– fragment – not strong enough to send whole body?_ **  
** _– send only the mind?_ **

Jack hadn’t said a thing after regaining consciousness. Oh, he’d cracked a joke and whined about being cooped up after doing a Rip Van Winkle. If it were anyone else, they’d have left it at that. After all, nothing had happened to Jack. Nothing detectable, anyway. And definitely nothing that could have been construed as means to keep him under observation.

They’d speculated, though. The whole six days had been nothing but one theory after another, the most feasible lasting right up to the moment Jack regained consciousness. And that particular theory had been that he’d gone somewhere… _else_.

Janet slowly put the notepad down, and decided that there was no point lingering on it until she got her own copy of Jack’s report.

* * *

Teal’c considered his choice of words carefully. He’d long ago noticed that their watchers tended to zone in sharply whenever there were clashes of opinion in their reports.

** _After Major Carter had determined the origins of the glass fragment, we obtained permission to move the quantum mirror from Area 51 to the SGC. After placing the fragment in its proper spot in the mirror_ **

And that had only been after a long and thorough debate between Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, although debate was probably too mild a term. Too many pros, even more cons, an infinite of unknowns. They’d been working on their nerves, which of course they’d done many times before, but it never made decision-making any easier.

** _the mirror transformed into a young woman._ **

Actually, that statement lacked precision. Since Teal’c was known for his accuracy, so he swiftly amended himself.

** _transformed into a humanoid form resembling a young human female._ **

If Teal’c had had more artistic license in his reports, he’d have elaborated on how perfectly symmetrical the humanoid had been. It was as though she had been carved from stencils; she had lacked the organic quality associated with actual living things.

** _She claimed to be Decuma, one of the three Fates._ **

* * *

Sam’s mythology was rusty, but even she knew who the Fates where.

** _Decuma was not a carbon-based life-form, nor of energy/radiation (i.e. Oma Desala et al). We weren’t able to carry out further tests to determine her physical make-up within the time frame available._ **

Sam bit her lip. Had they any idea the implications of such a discovery? And of course, Decuma had been one of those arrogant beings, answering in riddles and keeping itself – for Sam couldn’t bring herself to think of that thing as _alive _– as much away from prying eyes, fingers and sensors.

** _She claimed to be one of the three Fates, alien beings native to P45-7734. She said that an advanced race known as the Genais took over their temple, and_ **

_Oh. _Sam realized that there was absolutely no way she could write what she was about to without it sounding like complete fiction.

Then again, considering what they encountered on a daily basis…

** _manipulated her physical form into the quantum mirror by technology unknown._ **

Re-reading that last line, Sam decided that it didn’t sound too bad, as wordings went.

* * *

Daniel, of course, lingered on the mythology aspect, although he’d decided to spare Hammond the eyesores and dedicated most of the elaboration to his own private notes.

** _Nona, Decuma and Morta, otherwise known as Clotho (maiden), Lachesis (mother) and Atropos (crone); the three Fates of Greek mythology who determined the destinies of men._ **

The Cliff’s Notes version would suffice for the moment.

** _Decuma aka Lachesis of mythology was the mother, and her job was to weave the thread of life of each individual into their fate on the loom of destiny._ **

In the margin of the page, Daniel scribbled an additional

** _Mira’s Door; Mira = Moirae = Fates_ **

He would’ve cracked it eventually, Daniel told himself. There had been so much writing to work on, and the only other translator available had been Wilder, whom by Daniel’s own standards was more of a hindrance than an aid.

Decuma, when ‘released’ from her prison, hadn’t been that much help either. Daniel had tried to decipher as much of her speech as he could, but it was as though she was being difficult on purpose. Which _was _possible, considering.

** _The Fates (of P45-7734) are beings of a different plane, ingrained (or born) with the ability to ‘walk between the worlds’._ **

There was quantum physics in there somewhere, but Daniel decided that he’d leave all that to Sam. He instead focused on what Decuma had told them.

** _The Genais sought to harness their power, and knew they were only able to do so by separating the three Fates. They tricked Nona and Morta into ‘leaving’ (exact details unknown), and trapped Decuma’s essence into the quantum mirror._ **

Daniel also decided to let Sam figure out why every universe had it’s own quantum mirror. He always knew when and where he was out of his league.

** _A fragment was cut off from the mirror to prevent Decuma from regaining her full consciousness. Nona and Morta, separated from their sister (who has the power of destiny), remained powerless and were left to wander aimlessly between the worlds._ **

Once regaining her ‘physical’ form in the SGC, Decuma had wanted to leave. She’d certainly had the power to, once she’d regained her full form but they’d – _he’d _– been adamant. He’d raised his voice to her, yelling in perfect classical Greek. In retrospect, he was glad that no one else had understood the conversation.

_“What about Jack?!”_

And she’d looked at him, with those eerie clear eyes, and said, _“He is walking between the worlds.”_

_“You can bring him back!”_

_“There are more universes than you think.”_

_“You can jump effortlessly between them and find the one he’s in, right?”_

She’d blinked at him in the infuriating way reserved for a slow child. _“He is… tetherless.”_

And Daniel had understood. They’d all pretty much guessed that Jack had fallen into some other universe, but that statement lacked accuracy. He hadn’t bounced. He was actively _bouncing_.

* * *

There were a few families in the old park, with a bunch of kids arguing over the last available swing. Jack, who’d been driving around aimlessly for the past hour or so, settled into a bench just far enough so not to intrude on the atmosphere.

It was strange, how _normal _the world could be. As though it weren’t just some hunk of stone with a chewy center careening millions of miles through space debris. All of this – the children playing, the boy teaching his brother to skate, the parent scolding the child who’d dropped her ice-cream – blissfully unaware.

Jack wondered whether ignorance really was bliss. He was smarter for the things he’d seen, yeah, but tell that to the gray hairs on his head.

After a while, he took out a small notepad and pen that he’d brought in a small bag. He’d accumulated too many memories in the past six days, and the sheer volume of it was causing it to slip away at an alarming rate. Most of him did want to forget it all, but another part of him, though quiet, kept insisting that the loss would cost more than memory.

So he started writing, starting with a little header that said **Quantum Leap, O’Neill style**

* * *

There was little time before she was due to meet up with Janet for dinner, so Sam sped through the rest of the report as fast as she could.

** _We_ **

Actually, Daniel.

** _asked_ **

demanded

** _Decuma to help Colonel O’Neill. She agreed._ **

The alien lady had also asked – via Daniel – for time, and a place where she could meditate without being disturbed. Hammond had given her the VIP suite, which she’d retired to. She’d only allowed Daniel to accompany her, and no one else. Daniel had agreed, and had all but ordered no one to disturb them.

No one had questioned his judgement, for they knew better.

** _Nearly eight hours later, Colonel O’Neill regained consciousness. There were no other side effects, aside from fatigue. Decuma then returned to P45-7734._ **

No one really knew for sure what had happened in that room, or to Colonel O’Neill. Well, except for Daniel and possibly the Colonel, but Sam wouldn’t be the one to ask.

* * *

Daniel reread the last paragraph of his report.

** _Decuma said she knew what was wrong with Colonel O’Neill, and agreed to help him. After approximately eight hours, O’Neill was fully recovered._ **

There, that would fit in nicely with Jack’s own report. The absolute truth, even if it was highly simplistic. Daniel shook his head, irritated with himself. He was, in theory, bound to explain all details of what had really happened.

Decuma had told him that she could find Jack, but she would need an anchor to link him to their particular universe. _“Are you close to this Jack O’Neill?”_

_“Close? Yeah, I guess.”_

If she were capable, Daniel knew she would have rolled her eyes at that point. _“You don’t seem to understand the concept of infinity. Possibilities are infinite. Universes are infinite. And infinite is much bigger a number than it appears.”_

Daniel recalled how the slow horror had crept over him at that point. The one time he’d gone through the mirror, his mind had avoided the detours, taking upon itself the path of least resistance: _these people aren’t the ones you know. _And they weren’t. He couldn’t recognize any part of them, not General Jack or First Prime Teal’c or Civilian Sam, and it had been easy to see that they were a ‘Them,’ and not a ‘Variation Of Us’.

Who knew what Jack had seen out there?

_“If you aren’t close, the bond won’t be strong enough for me to find him. Are you close?” _Decuma had asked him again.

Daniel had steeled his expression. _“I’d die for him.”_

The bitch had smiled. _“Good enough.”_

Then she had taken his hand, the gesture causing a sensation not unlike electricity to move up his arm. Her eyes had glazed over into a murky gray, and they’d stayed that way for hours. Hours and hours until the glaze left her eyes and she turned to him with a little satisfied smirk. _“It is done.”_

Remembering the way he’d flown to the infirmary to confirm her words, Daniel let out a slow exhalation. Relief was too casual a word to use.

He turned and grabbed the phone again, hitting the speed-dial along the way. “Jack, Jack are you there? Pick up. Jack, pick up!”

* * *

Blinking the blink of the betrayed, Jack flipped the last page of the small notepad, appalled that he’d finished all 38 pages of it.

Why was it that six days of playing quantum hopscotch felt a million years longer than three months with life on daily rewind where he’d had to live the same words, the same steps, the same breaths over and over again? That particular experience had been bad enough on its own, though admittedly, there’d been the advantage of consequence-free stress-relief. But this was on the _other _end of the spectrum of bad – no two places had been alike, and he’d had to learn how to survive and adapt as fast as he could.

There was an equation right there. A little over six days. Twenty-four hours a day. 78 minutes a universe. And that equaled a Great Big Honkin’ Number, and Jack decided to leave it at that.

Why 78 minutes per universe? Who the hell knew? Or cared? It had been too short a period to get a breather, and the moment he’d been able to gain some bearings on the key facts of where he was and thus try to work out what had happened and how he could get back, he’d jumped and had to start _all over again._

It was easy to remember what he’d seen, though. At first it had been for the novelty. Later on, it had been because Jack had slowly come to realize that he’d only scratched the surface of the multiverse.

It was strange. The bad ones were awful –

_Apophis taken over, the SGC destroyed, Earth enslaved. The SGC survivors had fled underground, forming a resistance. Carter was there, her eyes dark and haunted – like his had been, once upon a time. Teal’c had been brainwashed, and was hunting them down like animals…_

– but they’d hurt in the straightforward way of the hurtful.

Then there were the good ones –

_A rebellion lead by Oma and Daniel had allowed the Ancients to help them openly. The people on Earth and other planets were being educated directly, the Stargate had become a successful organization under his leadership, bringing forth universities and research institutes all over the world. Carter and Daniel were heroes, Teal’c had finally been able to free Chulak…_

– that had made him hate his counterpart there for the gift he’d been given.

So it seemed that either way, it was bad.

There’s no place like home? Hah, _that _was a lie and a half. There were worlds so close to his own that more than once he’d allowed himself to think that he’d returned to his own universe safely –

_Right until the moment Carter’s face went all scrunchy at the mention of Daniel’s name, and he finally registered the weight of the wedding band on his finger…_

– but that false sense of security had been shot to hell after the second dozen universes or so.

Brushing imaginary dust off his pants, Jack stood up and decided he might as well head back home.

Home. Hah. Using that word, even if only in his head, was enough to make him laugh. Morbid humor was a wonderful thing for times such as these.

* * *

Teal’c skimmed over his report one last time, to make sure he’d avoided any other errors.

** _And with Decuma’s_ **

supposed

** _help, O’Neill regained consciousness._ **

He’d been in the infirmary when it’d happened. Daniel had been in the VIP suite with Decuma, while Major Carter had sat with him at O’Neill’s side.

The waking process had been slow, with O’Neill blinking more times that one would’ve associated with normal sleep. He’d blinked, stared, and then blinked some more, ignoring or unhearing Dr Fraiser’s questions.

Then, he’d slowly turned to look at Dr Frasier who’d said quietly, _“Colonel, can you hear me?”_

And then he’d turned the other way to look and Major Carter and himself. There had been a look of utter amazement in his eyes. He’d sat up – far too quickly for Dr Frasier’s liking – and stared at them, a strange flurry of emotions passing over his face.

_“Teal’c? Carter? I…” _While he wasn’t supposed to have been able to make out exactly what O’Neill had said, Teal’c was pretty sure it had been, _“I know you.”_

Then O’Neill had grinned, said something inane, then turned and gave Dr Frasier a mock punch on the shoulder. Then he’d made a strange oooh sound and started complaining about nausea and how he needed to get some fresh air.

They were pleased, of course. Ecstatic, even. O’Neill, up and about, a little tired but happy to be awake, which was strange considering that logically all he’d been doing for the past six days was having a nice nap.

And then Daniel Jackson had entered the infirmary. Teal’c hadn’t been sure what to expect, but it definitely had been more than the too brief O’Neill glance had given him. _“Hey, Daniel.” _And that had been that.

Daniel Jackson hadn’t said anything, either. He’d simply nodded and left, mumbling something about Decuma needing to leave for her home planet.

There had been a few tests to confirm that O’Neill was fine, and then they’d gone to see Decuma off. There’d been no thank-yous exchanged. Not from Decuma for restoring her, nor from O’Neill to Decuma for helping him wake up, for lack of a better term.  She’d simply nodded – perhaps to them, or perhaps to herself, because there was no way to be sure – and then stepped through the wormhole.

The debriefing had been mechanical, almost sterile, from O’Neill’s and Daniel Jackson’s side. O’Neill seemed to want nothing more than leave the place, while Daniel Jackson seemed to be bursting with the need to say something that couldn’t be said.

General Hammond hadn’t pushed, though.

_“Colonel?”_

_“Six days, out like a log, sir. What else’s there to say?”_

Daniel Jackson’s eyes had flicked to O’Neill’s, the look in his eyes almost anger.

_“Dr Jackson?”_

_“Power surge of the fragment probably caused Jack to black out when he touched it.”_

_“Major Carter?”_

_“Likely, sir. We won’t know for sure, but I doubt we’ll ever be able to run tests on… her.”_

_“So there’s no threat?”_

_“No, none whatsoever. It was an honest accident.”_

And that had been that. Jack had left without a backward glance, not offering a single word of reassurance or confirmation. Daniel had retired to his lab, Major Carter to hers, Teal’c to his room; all with their own reports to write.

Teal’c made a sound that could have been a sigh, but it could have been something else. Then he clicked SAVE and started printing the report.

* * *

Jack stared at his distorted reflection in the darkened television screen, wondering whether that was how the quantum mirror worked. Perhaps it warped the original image, giving off an infinite number of reflections that differed more from the original the farther on it went.

If that were the case, was Jack the original, or was he an image? Was there a The Number One Original Jonathan O’Neill With His Proper Destiny out there, making him simply One of the Possibilities?

His brain hurt. At least he knew the remedy for that, and took another swig from the bottle in his hand.

Many of the places had been tempting. So tempting, in fact, that it had become almost too easy to believe that they were really his.

You didn’t become Special Ops without having a piece of your mind fused into solid steel. It had given Jack’s sanity something to cling to, especially after the 30th alternate or so, when everything had started to unravel, leaving Jack thinking that perhaps he wasn’t ever going to get back home. Maybe he was destined to forever do the leaping thing, living a moment of every other Jack’s life until there was nothing left - and since the possibilities went all around infinity and beyond, there was a lot to work around.

And the wonders that some of those places offered… Sunshine before being buried alive.

_Charlie. Dear god, Charlie, alive! Charlie, well into his teens and complaining about the rival hockey team of his high school, drinking straight from the milk carton, wearing pants that were way too baggy and something that could have been a stud in the lobe of one ear…_

_Standing before the world, free from all the lies and secrecy. The greatness before them, so tangible you could touch it. They were true explorers in every since of the term._

_Daniel, in his bed, arm around his waist. He’d never dared imagine what it would be like, but there it was – there *he* was, Daniel’s scent suffocating his nostrils while the other man bore the knowing smile of the thoroughly fucked. Daniel’s fingers, reaching for him before he was able to react…_

Jack felt the nausea rush up, and quickly pushed it back.

There was no point in lingering on that which was… was…

_Impossible? Unattainable? Unreachable? _No, that wasn’t right, because it _had _happened out there somewhere, so…

That which was _not his_. Perfect.

* * *

It was when they were well into the desert portion of dinner when Janet looked up in time to catch that faraway look on Sam’s face.

Janet carefully put down the fork and dabbed at the remnants of pudding around her mouth before saying, “The alternate Samantha, the one that came through the last time, was different enough that we were able to mentally catalogue her as being a completely different person.”

Sam’s expression was more surprised that Janet had expected. “Yes, I suppose.”

“She’d deviated from your own path a long time ago,” Janet said thoughtfully. “Farther back—”

“To the point where the military had never been a career option for her,” Sam finished. “Thing is, I’ve _always _wanted to join the Air Force, ever since I was a little girl. And not only because of my father, but because I believed that I had something to offer, and I loved the challenge of it. She simply… didn’t.”

Janet held Sam’s gaze. “So she’s not you. Not by a long shot.”

“No,” Sam said, leaning her chin forward on interlaced fingers. “She’s as different from me as I am from you. That’s how we’ve all been looking at the mirror… Those places out there: they’re _them_, and not _us_. And it was easy to believe it when we were so different.”

They both fell silent for a moment. After a while, Sam chuckled softly.

“What?” Janet asked.

“I just remembered something, from the early days, when the ‘Gate was just re-opened,” Sam said, slowly stirring the pudding with a spoon. “General Hammond told us that we were all _way _over our heads.”

Janet smiled. “Exactly what he told me when I was brought in.”

“Well, yes, but just see what we’ve seen and done since then. How far we’ve come… The program, the team, the…” Sam trailed off.

“You’d think it would all start making sense at some point, hmm?” Janet suggested.

“I’m a scientist, that’s what I do. I break things down to make them make sense,” Sam insisted.

“Russian dolls, Sam,” Janet said quietly. “There’s always another doll inside. Don’t ever try to count them.”

* * *

By the time he finally keeled over to land face-first on the couch cushions, Jack could feel the memories blurring away. He knew that by morning he wouldn’t be able to tell what he’d really experienced and what he’d simply made up. And at the moment, he couldn’t quite decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Too many, that was the problem. He’d seen too many possibilities.

They made the _here _and _now _seem meaningless. Like, what was the point? There were places out there—

The Asguard, Tollan and Nox had agreed to share technology; they had full sanction of the other major powers of Earth; SG-1 was leading a stronger, more focused program that understood and accepted their responsibility as the Tauri; the protection and aid of other planets was an obligation they’d embraced…

That universe’s Daniel and Carter had been distressingly content with all the possibilities of (their) universe completely open to them, no strings attached.

So what about him? His team? Here?

What was the _point_?

Jack managed to open one eye, and was just about able to make out the outline of the coffee table, dimly illuminated by the single lamp at the corner. It felt as though the shadows of his unassuming living room were pressing down on him, heavier than anything from the underground temple of P45-7743.

He felt so small. Insignificant.

One among billions. Literally.

He could die, and it wouldn’t matter. _He _didn’t matter. There would be always be other Jacks, millions and billions and oodleplexes of Jacks out there, all who’d continue doing their job of being Jack, and were probably better at it than he was.

Well, fuck. That was not a good place to let his mind wander into.

Jack groaned, and tried to bury himself into the cushions.

At some point he did manage to fall asleep, though he wasn’t sure how long he was out. What he did know was that eventually he woke up, as the paranoid bastard of Jack’s psyche was suddenly aware that he was no longer alone in the house. It just about managed to drag the rest of him to consciousness enough to open his eyes.

Daniel was standing next to the coffee table, staring at the wall. For the hundredth time Jack wondered why he’d given him the spare key to the house, though he already knew the answer to that one. As though sensing he was being watched, Daniel turned. “Hey.”

“Mrrh.” Jack shut his eyes and was content enough to drift off, when Daniel’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey, let’s get you to bed.” Daniel’s voice was soft, but close to his ear.

“Just resting my eyelids,” Jack murmured into the cushions.

“You can go rest them in your room,” Daniel suggested.

Jack sighed, knowing the futility of going head-on against Daniel’s nagging insistence, especially when the other man was pointedly refusing to acknowledge his little collection of empty bottles. He settled himself into a seating position, hoping that the expression on his face was a reassuring smile rather than a wince.

Daniel nodded, more to himself than to Jack, and padded off to the kitchen. “You mind if I get something to drink?”

Jack waved a hand at him. “Be my guest.”

The clock on the mantle revealed the time to be much earlier than he had thought, and Jack was glad that he hadn’t started rattling off on Daniel.

Another glance at a corner of the coffee table, and Jack knew that Daniel had looked at the open notebook he’d left there. It wouldn’t have been on purpose, of course, but Daniel had at least glanced at the topmost page. Strangely enough, Jack felt comforted by the breach in privacy. While he wouldn’t dream of passing on any of his own burdens to Daniel – who had more than enough on his own – there were some things that ought to be shared, simply because.

And if not Daniel, then who else?

Jack smiled, despite himself. That last thought was the only comforting one he’d had all night, and somehow, that made perfect sense.

* * *

Daniel took a little longer than necessary getting the coffee ready, but he knew that Jack was probably grateful for the delay.

He hadn’t meant to look at the notebook. Really, he hadn’t. It had been sitting there, minding its own business, and Daniel had been standing there, minding his own business…

Perhaps he could fault it to his tendency to automatically speed-read. That, and his fluency with the scrawl that was Jack’s handwriting.

** _\- No SGC. Retired from Air Force, became part-time security consultant. Living in apartment._ **  
** _\- Found Sha’re, Daniel left, Carter never joined SG-1 (Area 51), Jacob commanding officer._ **  
** _\- Charlie alive. Sara gone. New girlfriend._ **  
** _\- Promoted to general, in charge of the SGC. Daniel and Carter married (Samantha Jackson…!) --&gt; kids._ **  
** _\- Apophis taken over. SG-1 --&gt; underground resistance._ **  
** _\- Carter gone --&gt; ascended (?), Daniel at Atlantis (?)_ **  
** _\- Civilian, hockey coach, completely different family._ **  
** _\- Joined SGC much later. Not part of SG-1._ **  
** _\- Daniel._ **  
** _\- Retired, Kinsey taken over, Carter and Daniel relocated, Teal’c gone._ **  
** _\- SG-1 dead. Dead deaddeaddead Daniel Teal’c Carter dead all DEAD_ **

Jack was still sitting on the couch when Daniel returned to the living room. He placed one cup of the freshly brewed coffee on the table for Jack, while he made himself comfortable in the chair opposite, nursing his own cup.

“You ever wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t re-opened the ‘Gate?” Jack asked suddenly.

“All the time,” Daniel said quietly.

“Well.” Jack turned toward him, his gaze electric. “How about… Apophis would’ve gone to Abydos anyway, because he knew Ra was dead, and he’d still take Sha’re. And _you _wouldn’t have known that the SGC had been re-opened, and you’d be left on that planet, helpless and useless and unable to do anything more than to mourn your wife as she spends the next millennia as Ammonet’s host. Ever wonder about that?”

Daniel remained silent, for he knew that this wasn’t about him, or Sha’re. It was about the man who was sitting across from him, wading his way through memories that weren’t meant to be his.

“And then there are places where the Goa’uld are defeated. The ‘Gate has been made public. We’re all heroes. You and Carter… You’re both so happy. You get to trample through the galaxy with nothing more than discovery on your minds, no strings attached. And Teal’c, he gets to rebuild his home and family in peace.”

“What about you?” Daniel asked suddenly.

Jack looked at him in surprise, as though he’d forgotten he was there. “What?”

“Would you have been happy there?” Daniel gave a casual shrug. “Because if it’s really all that—”

“It’s nothing to do with _that_,” Jack said, sounding irritated. “I don’t belong _there_. They have their own Jack O’Neill and that’s the thing. That’s the thing about the mirror, that we’d never – okay, maybe _I _never thought about.”

And Jack was finally talking, eyes and mouth and hands all animated though slightly slurred, and for that Daniel was quietly thankful. He stood up, careful not to spill his drink, and carefully made his way around the coffee table to sit next to Jack, who didn’t really seem to notice either way even as his eyes followed him eagerly like a child who’d just heard some amazing story and was itching to tell it to the first person he met.

“We’re here and they’re there. It’s all split nicely down the middle, with a convenient barrier – the mirror,” Jack told him. “It’s easy to think of them as _them _when they’re so different from us, but some of them aren’t. Some of them are so familiar.”

“Like?”

“Sure, there are the ones with the big differences, but there are those that were so similar I thought I… I thought I’d found my way home. But then there’d be something…” Jack trailed off, eyes clouding over.

“Jack?”

Daniel waited quietly as Jack bowed his head, suddenly silent.

What was it Decuma had said? _No ‘ifs’. There are more universes than you think._

“There are places where we’re dead?” Daniel asked softly. Jack nodded, refusing to look up. When it became apparent that Jack wasn’t going to be talking again so quickly, Daniel reached out a hand and carefully placed it on top of Jack’s, ignoring the way he flinched at the touch.

“Then…” Daniel looked away for a moment, catching sight of the framed photographs on the mantle. “There should be places where you’re dead, too. Where the order of the Air Force didn’t arrive on time, and you never joined the original Abydos mission, Teal’c was never given the opportunity to rebel…”

“There are places where I’ve betrayed all of you,” Jack said, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “I’m on Kinsey’s payroll.”

“But,” Daniel began carefully. “You just said, you don’t belong _there_. You’re _here_, and _this _is your home.”

“What’s the point?” Jack asked. “There are millions, billions of us out there. What’s the point? Do you have any idea how insignificant we are?”

“I feel that way every time I step through the Stargate,” Daniel said simply. “We _are _very small in the scheme of things, Jack. That’s why it’s all the more important to do the best that we can with what we have.” He permitted himself a genuine grin. “And we have changed our world, as well as some others not our own. How many people can say that?”

For the longest time Jack simply looked at him, strange emotions fluttering across his face. “So we should… make what we have… count.”

Daniel nodded slowly, and was not at all surprised when Jack leaned forward to kiss him. It was just a light brush of lips, and when he started to pull back, it was Daniel who dipped forward to complete it.

* * *

From what Teal’c understood of the Tauri language, fate and destiny were interchangeable terms. They implied that events of the universe were pre-determined, and there was no escaping or changing them.

For the longest time Teal’c had cast down that set of beliefs. His life, with all its tumultuous twists and turns, were of his own design, and he would not relinquish such power to any superior being. After all, Teal’c’s very choices were the workings of a concrete atheist.

When Decuma had been in the SGC, and Daniel Jackson, General Hammond and Major Carter had been busy discussing where to ask her for help, Teal’c had gone to see her. He hadn’t known why at the time. And it had been easy to wade through her Greek-derived language.

_“It doesn’t matter what you believe or don’t,”_ she had told him. _“Destiny does exist. It just happens to have an infinite number of permutations. There is no such thing as an ‘if’. Where you stand today is exactly where you are meant to be.”_

_“I make my own destiny_,_”_ he’d said.

_“Oh, you do, do you? You chose to bring Apophis to this world to look for hosts for his wife? You called O’Neill and his compatriots to Chulak that day? Hmm?”_

He had nodded slightly, though both of them knew it was not because he was agreeing with her dispute of his belief. Teal’c had simply grasped the concept of possibility faster than the others. _“I have seen how deviations can occur. I understand the consequences. But why exist at all?”_

_“To give life a chance.”_

Teal’c had raised an eyebrow. _“So the price of one perfection is a million imperfections?”_

She had looked angry, for a moment. It was closest thing to any sort of emotion he’d seen in her. _“Why do all of you refuse to understand? You don’t praise the beauty of one snowflake over another. *Every* universe is perfect. Perfectly unique.”_

* * *

Jack knew, without getting up, that if he looked outside the window right that moment, there would be a sky full of stars and other miscellaneous space junk. From this particular vintage point, they’d look all mysterious and poetic. But in at least four rooms of the SGC, they were all split, drawn, defined and labeled with uninteresting numbers and letters.

And they, the little arrogant rock of the Tauri, were nothing more than a piece of lint on the jacket of life.

Jack had never been a big picture person, but the thoughts currently in his head were as big picture as they got And yet he could recognize sense, of sorts, in there somewhere. Maybe hanging around Daniel had taught him something.

Put simply enough, he just had to leave the big picture stuff to other people. His world was always meant to be small enough to fit on the back of a planetary quarter.

He smiled faintly. The memories of the past six days were fast turning to shadows, and soon enough would turn into fanciful bogeymen, easily boxed away like other things of Jack’s history.

“Jack?” Daniel’s breath was warm against the back of his neck.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you still awake?”

“Meaning of life stuff.”

Daniel’s fingers dug briefly into his hip. “Ah.”

“Know what I think?”

“What?”

Jack felt a thrill at the genuine interest in Daniel’s voice. Shifting on his side, he said, “Well. If there’s a god, he’d be a lint-remover.”

Jack grinned, and was pleased to see a mirror expression on Daniel’s face.

“Brilliant. You’ve solved it. 42.”

“Of course.”

* * *

Sam had planned to spend the morning of the second day of SG-1’s downtime sleeping in, but her internal clock wreaked havoc on that plan. She was just finishing blow-drying her hair when she heard the doorbell.

Her first thought was that there was something up at the SGC that needed her immediate attention, which broke her lazy stride into a brisk walk.

A quick check in the eyehole just made her swing her front door open faster. “Sir, what’s wrong?”

“Jeez Carter, slow down or you’ll get a heart attack,” Jack said, grinning. Over his shoulder, Sam nodded at Teal’c, who nodded in return, and Daniel, who shrugged apologetically – presumably for the unannounced morning stopover.

What she did finally notice, however, was that her doorstep guests were wearing civvies. And not just any civvies, but clothes that they really did wear when they were off-duty, rather than clothes they wore for the smoke screen of just _looking _off-duty. That included the long-absent cowboy adornment for Teal’c.

“You got plans?” Jack asked. He still hadn’t stopped smiling. It was so effective that Sam found herself smiling in return.

“No, sir.”

“You do now,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes.

Jack batted at hand at him. “So anyway, get ready for a day out, Carter. Stat.”

“What are we going to be doing, sir?” she asked carefully.

Teal’c inclined his head. “Apparently, we are ‘going to make it count’.”

That actually made Sam start, a rush of pleasure settling in her stomach. “Let me get my jacket.”

Jack nodded, turning on his heel. “I’ll start the car.”

As Sam darted into the house, she could just make out the guys’ voices as they started towards Jack’s car.

“I would like to ride shotgun, O’Neill,” Teal’c said.

“Heck no, you might get it into your head to give me directions,” Jack said.

“Jack, he’d do that even if he were sitting in the back,” Daniel said.

“That is true, O’Neill,” Teal’c responded.

Sam found that, if anything, she was only smiling wider. She locked the house in double time and ran after the others. “Going to make it count, hmm?” Sam asked as Daniel opened the back door for her. “That’s an interesting agenda.”

Daniel glanced over at Jack and Teal’c, who were arguing over the radio station to play, then looked back at Sam, who had a similarly amused expression on her face. Leaning forward conspiratorially, Daniel whispered to her, “Personally, I think we already do.”


End file.
